Hole in My Soul
by aixla
Summary: Oz's life falls apart around him.


Title: Hole in My Soul  
Author: Ailie McFarland  
E-Mail: aixla@juno.com  
Fandom: BtVS  
Pairing: W/O, W/T  
Rating: R (sex, language)  
Timeline/Spoilers: Between seasons 5&6  
Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive  
Archives: http://www.geocities.com/aixla/fanfic.html  
Feedback: Please. It's been ages since I've had time to write, and I'm in feedback withdrawal!  
Disclaimer: Oz is not mine. Sigh. I wish he was. I'd treat him right. And if she was good, I might share him with Karen. *L* The song is "Hole in My Soul" by Aerosmith.  
  
  
//I'm down a one way street   
With a one night stand   
With a one track mind   
Out in no man's land   
The punishment sometimes   
Don't seem to fit the crime//   
  
The alley was cold, dark. Oz shivered in the dampness and pulled the threadbare coat tighter around his bony frame. How many pounds had he lost since this all started, ten? Twenty? He'd stopped keeping track weeks ago. His health was the last thing on his mind at this point.  
  
Things had finally started to get better. Oz had started to be able to sleep through the night without nightmares. Sometimes those dreams had come in the form of torture at the hands of the scientists at the Initiative. Sometimes his mind tried to reconstruct the events surrounding Verruca's gruesome demise. Most of the time the nightmares had been of Willow, and what her insides would look like as the wolf feasted on them, or fantasies of ripping Tara limb from limb as she was forced to watch. But with meditation and a great deal of soul searching, those things began to pass.  
  
There had been a point where he could go almost an entire day without thinking of her. Without missing her smile, her companionship, her kisses. And when those thoughts did occur, they were not quite a longing, but rather a fond remembrance of days gone by. Whimsical thoughts of a past love, almost a past life.   
  
//Yeah there's a hole in my soul   
But one thing I've learned   
For every love letter written   
There's another one burned   
So you tell me how it's gonna be this time//   
  
And then it started. The first time Oz had been deep in meditation. After almost two years of practice, he was now quite skilled at blocking the outside world. In fact, an entire room of his apartment in Bangkok was dedicated to this art. When he entered that space, everything was left at the doorway. Here there was only himself and the air he breathed. But on that particular day, something changed.  
  
"Oz."  
  
Barely a whisper. Just a tickling in the back of his mind. But it was there. Willow's voice, inside his head. ~ Odd. ~ Oz thought to himself as he gathered himself and tried to return to his relaxed state. It had been a long time since any thoughts had been able to pierce the veil of his meditation, let alone thoughts of her.  
  
//Is it over?   
Is it over?   
'Cause I'm blowin' out the flame//   
  
The rest of the session continued without incident, and Oz decided it was just "one of those things."  
  
Until it happened again two days later.  
  
This time he had been walking down the street, heading toward the market. His thoughts were nothing more complicated than trying to remember if he had enough milk at home, when she intruded again.   
  
"Oz." Louder than the first time, Willow's voice startled him enough to cause him stop and turn around, looking for her. "Oz." Again, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere. "Come home."  
  
"Willow?" he whispered, aware that he was now attracting stares from passers-by. "Willow?" But there was no response.  
  
//Take a walk outside your mind   
Tell me how it feels to be   
The one who turns   
The knife inside of me   
Take a look and you will find   
There's nothing there, girl   
Yeah I swear, I'm telling you, girl//   
  
The occurrences became more and more frequent as time went by. Oz was unable to sleep through the night without hearing his name called at least once. "Oz, come home!"  
  
He tried calling Willow and Tara's room once, but the voice that picked up the connection half a world away was unfamiliar, and unable to help. He supposed he could have called the Rosenberg home, or maybe Giles or Buffy ... but what good would that do? They would just put him in touch with Willow, and she would be worried about him. After all, he was hallucinating. Willow had made things perfectly clear the last time they spoke. Someday they might find each other and be friends again, but this was not the time. And besides the fact that she had no reason to do this, she also didn't have the capability. At least, she hadn't the last time Oz had seen her.  
  
So this was obviously in his head. He just wasn't dealing the way he needed to. Somehow, he would find a way to get through this, alone.  
  
//There's a Hole In My Soul   
That's been killing me forever   
It's a place where a garden never grows   
There's a Hole In My Soul   
Yeah, I should have known better   
'Cause your love's like a thorn without a rose//   
  
Oz tried everything. Her voice invaded every meditation and mantra he attempted. Even his music couldn't drown out her call. As time went on, the voice only seemed to get stronger. "Oz, come home. Please!"  
  
Eventually he turned to vice. Alcohol, drugs, one night stands with women whose names he couldn't remember the next morning, although whether he had known them at all was questionable. And for a while, the fog he surrounded himself in seemed to do the trick.  
  
Oz was in bed one night, weeks after this all began, and not alone. As he released himself into the nameless female form below him, he looked into her eyes and gasped as they changed from brown to a deep green.  
  
Willow's face stared back at him. "Oz," phantom lips formed the words. "Listen to me."  
  
"No!" He wasted no time dismounting the confused girl in his bed. Barely taking the time to cover his nakedness, he ran out into the street.   
  
//I'm as dry as a seven year drought   
I got dust for tears   
Yeah I'm all tapped out   
Sometimes I feel broken and can't get fixed   
I know there's been all kinds of shoes   
Underneath your bed   
Now I sleep with my boots on   
But you're still in my head   
And something tells me this time   
I'm down to my last licks//   
  
And so now he sat in the alley; cold, wet, and alone. There was really no other choice. The voice in his head just wouldn't stop. She wouldn't shut up. So he would have to silence her himself.  
  
Oz's hands shook as his infirm fingers struggled with the child-proof cap.   
  
"Oz? Oz can you hear me?"  
  
The pharmacy bottle fell to the ground as his hands went to his ears. "No. No! Shut up! Leave me alone!"  
  
"There isn't much time. It's difficult for me to ..."  
  
"Difficult? Difficult?" People began to stare as Oz staggered out of the alley, shouting to the stars. "My life. My life now! You have no right, no place! Get out of my fucking head bitch!"  
  
"Oz ..."  
  
"Shut up!" Twin lights sped toward him. It wasn't what he had planned, but it would do. And he couldn't wait anymore.  
  
Oz finally succeeded in drowning the voice. Willow's last call was lost in the blaring horn of the truck.  
  
//'Cause if it's over   
Then it's over   
And it's driving me insane   
Yeah, is it over?   
Yeah, it's over   
And I'm blowing out the flame//   
  
Tara arrived home to find Willow staring into the flickering flame of a black taper candle.   
  
"Honey." Willow jumped as her lover's hand brushed her shoulder.  
  
"Oh, Tara." She tried to smile, but her eyes betrayed their weariness. "I didn't hear you come in."  
  
With a knowing, sad smile, Tara sat down beside her. "Any luck today?"  
  
Willow shook her head. "No. I thought I finally reached him, but ... it was strange. It didn't feel like him. Does that make sense?"  
  
"Of course it does," Tara murmured as she pulled Willow into her arms. They stayed that way for quite some time before Tara spoke again. "You should get some sleep."  
  
"No," Willow pulled away, her eyes determined. "Something was different this last time. I have to try again."  
  
Tara's brow furrowed with concern. "Willow, you can't do everything. You've gotten so strong, but ... but maybe he's just too far away for you to reach." Willow started to inturrupt, but Tara continued. "I know you want him here. He was Buffy's friend. And he deserves to know about all this, about Dawn. And ... and he might be able to help with the spell. But you're killing yourself trying to do this. Maybe it's just too much."  
  
Willow's eyes hardened as she pushed Tara's comforting hands away. "It's not to much." That had come out much harsher than she meant it to be, so she backtracked a bit. "No, I mean, I think I finally reached him. It's like, I can talk to him maybe, but he can't talk back yet. Or something. But last time I felt like we connected somehow. And then ... usually I just lose my grip on him, or something. Instead it was like he hung up on me, like we got disconnected. And I'm scared that ... that maybe something happened to him."  
  
"Shh, baby. It'll be alright." Tara tried to console Willow.  
  
"I guess so," she sighed, resigned. Willow allowed herself to be led to the bedroom. But even as they made love, she couldn't shake the feeling that something irreparable had been done that day. Later, as she watched Tara sleeping, for a moment she thought she saw him lying there in her bed ... still as death. 


End file.
